


Show me that I'm yours to love

by SunshineChildx



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pre & Post Timeskip Edeleth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineChildx/pseuds/SunshineChildx
Summary: Byleth is fifteen when she sees the design of a crest carefully drawn over her skin, a crest that belongs to the person she’s bound to love, but she doesn’t understand the meaning of soulmates until she finds her. The world erases itself, it cracks wide open upon Byleth’s eyes, but something isn’t right.“For a second,” Byleth murmurs to herself, but loud enough for Edelgard to slightly raise her eyebrows, listening. “I was sure it was you.”
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 34
Kudos: 543





	Show me that I'm yours to love

Byleth was around fifteen when she heard about soulmates for the first time.

That was odd, considering that everyone in Fodland learnt about them practically at the same time they learnt how to read. It was a common knowledge that everyone knew, everyone accepted, everyone cherished. Everyone’s highest aspiration was to lock eyes with a stranger, feel that sense of belonging, and hear that tiny voice at the back of their head telling them ‘ _you did it, you found each other_ ’, and live happily ever after. Finding your soulmate wasn’t a complicated thing to do if you had a crest. If you didn’t, well, then it would be up to fate. But whether you bore any crest at all or you simply didn’t, soulmates always tended to find each other. Jeralt would’ve known, he found –and lost– the love of his life many years ago. Still, he hadn’t found a reason to tell Byleth earlier until this moment, when his daughter had woken up with the design of a crest carefully drawn over the skin of her right wrist.

“This is the thing, kid,” Jeralt had said to a confused Byleth when she had asked. “Crests give us strength, but they also link us with other people. This is your soulmate’s crest - that means the person your heart belongs to bears this crest.”

That was odd, too. People were supposed to be connected to their soulmates since birth, but his kid was aged up already when her soulmate mark manifested for the first time. He had thought that maybe Byleth didn’t have a soulmate, or maybe they didn’t have a crest to manifest on Byleth’s skin, which was rare but not completely impossible. But now, with that familiar pattern decorating her skin, everything had changed.

“I don’t think I understand,” Byleth had complained. “Isn’t this _my_ crest?”

“It is,” Jeralt had said, scratching his beard. _The Crest of Flames_ , the exact same crest Byleth bore since she was born was now also marking her wrist. According to common knowledge, that wasn’t possible. They had no other relatives, and that crest was supposed to be extinct. Even the fact that Byleth had it at all was an oddity, something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Jeralt couldn’t think of a single reason as to why his child would be paired up with someone who wasn’t _supposed_ to exist. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe her skin manifested her own crest. Maybe she didn’t have a soulmate at all. But, looking at her confused blue eyes and remembering the pure happiness he felt when he met Byleth’s mother for the first time, knowing she was his _soulmate_ , he couldn’t bring himself to break it to her.

“This is strange, but pay it no mind,” he had said, wearing a smile. “If you find your soulmate, you’ll simply _know_ , kid.”

That night Byleth hadn’t gone to sleep right away. She’d stayed up staring at the Crest of Flames she wore upon her sleeve, wondering how would she simply _know_ , when emotions were such a foreign thing for her; wondering what her father meant when he said her heart would _belong_ to someone; wondering if someone would ever want a heart that didn’t have a heartbeat.

* * *

Soon she would forget about that, her mind too occupied with becoming a mercenary that she’d often forget about the pattern on her skin and about all the things she didn’t understand. Byleth doesn’t give it much thought at all, until she finds _her_.

She’s coming back home – to the mercenaries’ settlement – from her last mission. She’s riding her horse with easiness, sweat pearling her forehead and sticking locks of her dark hair to it. She's tired after riding for this long, not that she would ever complain about something like that. The smell of leather from the horse’s attire fills her nostrils. And the familiar scent of home does, too. The mercenaries that travelled with her are chattering endlessly behind her, talking about wine, and their wives, and gold and trivial things. Byleth pays them no mind.

As soon as she steps a foot inside the settlement, Byleth knows there is something wrong.

“Where’s Jeralt?”

She asks aloud. The chattering ceases and all the mercenaries look at her in confusion, stopping the horses. _There’s too much silence_. Byleth descends her mount, focusing on her hearing. The wind blows softly through the autumn trees, carrying misguided leaves along its course. _There’s nothing_. And then, she hears it. The familiar sound of metals clashing against one another. _Trouble_. Byleth draws her sword and runs into the forest.

“Bandits,” she murmurs.

At least six of them, heavily armed. She scans the clearing quickly with her eyes, her breathing calm and collected. There’s her dad, fighting against two bandits at the same time, and then three other people she doesn’t instantly recognize: two boys and a girl. Not that it was important right now. Her first impulse and thoughtful intention are running to her father’s aid, lending him the power of her sword as she’s done for years now. Still, from the corner of her eye, Byleth sees the leader of the bandits approaching the girl, who let her guard down probably due to her inexperience in battle. The bandit’s axe is so rotten that, even if it didn’t kill her instantly, the infection of the wound surely would later on. In a fraction of second, Byleth makes a bold decision.

With a sharp blow of her sword, the bandit’s axe flies over their heads and falls to the ground, meters behind them into the woods. The man falls, too, hitting his head and falling unconscious in an instant.

Byleth relaxes her pose, lowering her sword. She’s turning around, about to ask the girl if she’s okay – if it hadn’t been for her, this girl would have been badly wounded, she feels like she needs to warn her so there is no next time. Her emotionless face already in place, drops of sweat sliding down her temples, her eyes find white hair falling like snow waves down her back. She raises her gaze up to the girl’s eyes and, the moment she meets them, all the oxygen withdraws from her lungs.

The Earth stops spinning, all at once. Everything that once existed upon its surface suddenly disappears – vanishes into thin air. Like it never existed, everything disclosures leaving nothing behind, not even the void that there’s something missing. The world erases itself. It cracks wide open upon Byleth’s eyes, swallowing everything, even the sun. All the paths created, all the colors, the feelings, the life that once existed. There’s no woods around her, no mercenaries, no weapons to hold nor anyone in sight. There’s just this girl she hasn’t met before, and her lilac eyes reflecting all the stars that ever glowed in the history of the galaxy, the sky above their heads dull in comparison. It’s just the two of them and the whole universe holding them up, bringing them together. And she’s staring at her, her eyes wide open, the warm color of sunsets, of hopes, the softness of clouds hovering over new dawn. Byleth is magnetized, staring, _staring_ like there isn’t anything else worth looking at anymore, almost as if she knows her, as if she’s lived her whole life to be standing right here and now; as if, deep down, she somehow knows that girl is –

“Byleth,” Jeralt places a heavy hand on her shoulder. She’s suddenly brought back to Earth – The real Earth. Her body feels heavier than she remembers. “Glad to see you’re back. Also, thanks for the help, kid.”

“That was a close one, Edelgard,” a boy dressed in yellow says with a smirk, approaching them. “Maybe you’d want to train harder when we get back to the monastery.”

“Edelgard,” Byleth whispers, the word slipping through her tongue tasting sweet, a name she’s sure she’s heard before, she’s _said_ before many times; a sense of longing blooming in her chest, an old feeling she’s quite sure she remembers, like it was written that it would find her again.

“Thank you, Byleth…” Edelgard says, and hearing her speak sends a shiver down the mercenary’s spine. It’s the very first time she hears her voice, and yet Byleth would swear she remembers the way her lips curl shyly when she says her name, lilac eyes magnetized, locked with hers, spellbound.

Byleth shakes her head, an odd knot in her throat tightening. She feels her blood rushing through her veins, her pulse beating steadily behind her ears. She’s still staring, because how could she not when Edelgard is this _beautiful_. She’s never been one to care for appearances, but her eyes betray her and glimpse at every little detail they can capture. Her long eyelashes, the angle of her jaw, her piercing stare; irises flashing, lilac cracking under the light of the sun like a sky that’s about to break into a thunderstorm, endless – _stunning_.

Then Byleth remembers the mark upon her skin, the crest that’s drawn on her wrist like a prophecy, an omen. _If you find your soulmate, you’ll simply know, kid_ , Jeralt had said. She had wondered what he meant for quite some time. If she’s supposed to know, then she thinks – no, she’s sure that if she’s meant for someone, then –

“What’s your crest?” Byleth says breathlessly, eyes open wide, pleading, her face uncharacteristically overwhelmed with feelings she can’t name. _Say Crest of Flames. Say Crest of Flames. Say Crest of Flames_. Edelgard swallows hard, eyes unfocused, biting her lower lip.

“The Crest of Seiros,” she says, hands tightening her grip on her crossed arms, lilac still focused just on Byleth, only on Byleth. “That’s my birth crest.”

_Wait, what?_

Byleth visibly frowns. _That’s not right. That shouldn’t be right. This isn’t how things were supposed to go_. Edelgard opens her mouth to speak, but closes it right after. She looks away, troubled, her expression dips into something darker Byleth can’t quite place.

“You have the Crest of Flames,” she speaks again, carefully studying Byleth’s reactions with her gaze. “I saw it when you defeated that bandit.”

Byleth nods, too afraid to hear her voice cracking if she attempted to speak right now, her grip turning tighter around the handle of her sword _. This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong. She was supposed to be –_

“Forgive my manners, may we start again?” She says, erasing every last bit of emotion from her face, a half-assed smile resting on her lips. “My name is Edelgard Von Hresvelg, future Emperor of the Adrestian Empire.”

After that, some other knights show up. Byleth learns her father used to be a knight in service of the church, and although the idea is somewhat confusing and doesn’t match with what she knows about her father nor the life they’ve had together, she follows him when he makes the decision to come back to the monastery.

They don’t speak much on the way there. They walk quietly, listening absentmindedly to Claude and Dimitri’s chatter – Byleth has learnt their names along with the fact that they are the crown prince of Faerghus and the future leader of the Alliance, respectively. Not that those titles mean too much for Byleth. She steals glances sideways, seeing Edelgard’s wavy white hair and finding her eyes in a heartbeat. Byleth wants to talk, say something. She feels as if she should, as if there were a thousand things left unsaid in the uneasy space that separates them – but she bites her bottom lip instead. They were heading to a new place, their new life about to start, leaving behind every comfort she ever knew. Everything was changing around her, except that her heart remained without a heartbeat, and that the only thing she had been sure of, the absolute certainty that Edelgard was her _soulmate_ , the one who was born with the Crest of Flames just like she had, was crushed in an instant. _The Crest of Seiros_ , she repeated in her mind, her heart aching in a way it never has before.

“For a second,” Byleth murmurs to herself, but loud enough for Edelgard to slightly raise her eyebrows, listening. Her long, silky hair waving down the small of her back, lilac deflecting the sadness inside. Byleth shakes her head, looking at the clear sky above. “I was sure it was _you_.”

* * *

Their story just spirals from there.

Byleth chooses the Black Eagle house when Lady Rhea asks her to become a Professor. It’s the next logical step, the only possible answer.

It’s not easy at first, but as weeks and months go by, Byleth finds a reason for her when she teaches her students. She starts discovering things about herself, too. She grows, blooms like a flower that’s finally under the light, unraveling a thousand shades of different feelings inside her. Time flies, they celebrate Edelgard’s birthday party, then it’s Byleth’s birthday party, and from then on each passing day she realizes how difficult it is to simply not be close to her.

Try as she might, fate seems to have other plans for them. Slowly, ever so slowly, they find a way into each other’s lives. For Byleth, where there used to be silence, and quiet, and empty spaces, now there’s bits of Edelgard everywhere: things she had said that tingle in her mind, smiles that she meant just for her, hands that linger together one more second than necessary, flowers and teddy bears and many ‘ _I’m sure Edelgard will be happy if I gift her this_ ’. And for Edelgard, where there used to be nightmares, closed doors and ice-cold walls, there’s the sloppy touch of Byleth all around: dozens of presents, her genuine smiles, afternoons having meals together and evenings enjoying tea time, that comforting feeling of acceptance, of safety, of _belonging_.

The scary part is that Byleth knows she shouldn’t let this happen. She’s her Professor, and even if she wasn’t – Edelgard is _not_ her soulmate. She said it herself, and Byleth has confirmed it on the battlefield many times. Her birth crest is the Crest of Seiros. The crest doesn’t match, the age doesn’t match, and there are a thousand reasons why she should let go. Still, when Byleth looks at her, Edelgard’s shy smile curling on the edges, lilac irises meeting her, _finding_ her in every room she walks into – she can’t get enough. Not even close.

Where there was nothing, now they unintentionally find each other. It’s so simple, so easy, most of the time Byleth doesn’t even remember what it used to be like before, her life without Edelgard feels distant and blurred, a hazy dream hard to grasp. The students of the Black Eagle house pay it no mind, too used to them spiraling around each other to find it odd. Byleth’s teaching is impeccable, and Edelgard is still royal as ever, even if every other free time they have they spend it together, wrapped up in their own personal world – but not enough to cross any boundaries. They never do.

Byleth isn’t one to be frightened of things, nothing further from the truth. But lately it’s been harder than usual to be around Edelgard, and that’s scary. It’s like she’s _drawn_ to her, like someone was pulling a string and bringing them _closer_ , closer together, close enough that Byleth can count each and every one of Edelgard’s long eyelashes and see crimson colors blooming under the skin of her cheeks, close enough to touch her, place her hand on her jawline and draw soft caresses with her thumb – but she doesn’t. She never does. _That wouldn’t be fair for Edelgard_ , she thinks. It’s like swimming against the current, like running up a mountain and be left breathless, chest aching as it was on fire. Byleth watches Edelgard give her pieces of herself every day, feels herself _polarized_ , orbiting her lilac eyes and yearning, _yearning_ to feel that it’s right to give in to what she feels, to cup her cheek and tell her, _finally_ tell her that she belongs to her and only her – but how can Byleth do something so utterly selfish, when she knows that Edelgard belongs to someone else, someone that’s _not her?_

Byleth is looking at the sunset, violet and golden tones bathing the landscape before her. The trees, the houses, the people. Everything looks precious, like it’s glowing. She’s on the balcony of the second floor of the monastery, waiting for Dorothea to finish pouring the hot chamomile tea into her cup. Byleth used to enjoy being alone with her thoughts; lately, these were getting harder and harder to tame. _When you’re feeling stressed about something, there’s nothing like a cup of your favorite tea with some good company_ – Dorothea had said to her once. Byleth had taken her up on that. She actually enjoyed the former songstress’ company. Despite her keen nature to gossiping, she had proved to be quite a good company for Byleth. Her smile was always ready and radiant, and her voice was soothing. Plus, she seemed to share a special connection with the former mercenary, a bond, a _friendship_ she never had before. Being around Dorothea was far easier than any other person she had known at the monastery. Except for Edelgard, but that was –

“Thinking about soulmates again, perhaps?” Dorothea asks, staring curiously at Byleth and then to the visible pattern on her right wrist. She raises an eyebrow, and Byleth stares back. She’s not one to open up, but sometimes everything just wants to spill out at once, a waterfall of every hidden thing she keeps.

“It’s just – I don’t understand,” Byleth blurts out, her thoughts too tangled to convey anything meaningful. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like meeting Edelgard happened one eternity away, _lifetimes_ away. She doesn’t understand how can something that feels so genuine be this devastating. How can possibly exist anyone else in the world that will hold more feelings for Edelgard than what she already has, someone who’s _right_ for her, someone who truly _belongs_ to her, a person that the universe specifically chose to make Edelgard happy. Someone that isn’t _her_.

Byleth closes her eyes shut, too overwhelmed to lift her eyes from the pattern on her skin. _The Crest of Flames. Her birth crest, the Crest of Seiros_. Dorothea doesn’t respond right away. In fact, she remains silent, so much so that Byleth thinks she might not respond at all. She breaths in, the soft scent of the chamomile tea slipping through her nostrils, soothing her mind.

“Listen. The universe may have made a choice, but that doesn’t mean you should follow it,” Dorothea says, certainty bathing her words. Byleth opens her eyes, meets Dorothea’s and finds her reflection in them, head tilted to the side. She lowers her gaze to Byleth’s arm, gently touching the skin on her wrist. “This is merely a mark on your body – Only your heart knows who you _truly_ belong to.”

Byleth lets her words linger in the air, taking in the powerful message behind them, still unsure. She can think of a million questions to ask, but deep down she knows it’s not Dorothea who should be answering them. Instead, she thinks of fate, and destiny, and love, and they all echo inside like the sound of Edelgard’s laugh sitting on her ears.

 _My heart_ , Byleth thinks to herself, placing a hand over her chest, feeling the everlasting lack of a heartbeat there. _It could work, but it also could destroy everything I care for, listening to a heart that’s broken_.

 _It’s not fair for her_ , she thinks, _giving in to a love I’m not supposed to have_.

* * *

Surprisingly, Byleth isn’t the one who snaps. Years later, she would look back and call herself an _idiot_ for not noticing earlier.

Edelgard was the Flame Emperor, she had been since the beginning, and she had fooled them all. Byleth had been so caught up in her own drizzle of emotions that she hadn’t seen past the poorly concealed sadness behind Edelgard’s eyes. She had felt Edelgard’s pulse when she held her hand longer than intended, but her heart was hidden somewhere else, somewhere Byleth longed to find. Byleth had opened up her doors, crumbled down her walls – she comes to her room at night with warm tea and soothing words, chasing away the darkness, and the demons, and the nightmares; doesn’t leave until the sun wakes them both. Edelgard lives in her smile, in the crook of her neck, in her beatless heart.

 _It all was planned from the beginning_ , Edelgard seems to say with the way her conflicted gaze turns to Byleth that night in the Holy Tomb, axe steadily held between her hands, burning embers behind her eyes, a lilac star that has no option but to burn and be consumed by her own flames. _It was all planned, except falling for you_.

Edelgard is turning against all she’s ever known, pointing her weapons at Rhea’s throat – _It’s you. You’re the reason we’re all miserable_. Byleth stands still between the two of them, the fate of humanity slipping through her fingers. The threads of every possible future tangling together and resting in her calloused palms.

 _Only your heart knows who you truly belong to_ , Dorothea had said. And suddenly there’s only one thread she can follow, one string that stretches winding two lives together – or so Byleth longs to believe. It would be now, in the worst possible scenario, when she would commit to Dorothea’s words.

Byleth turns her back on Rhea, wielding her weapon to protect Edelgard with her sword, with her life, with everything she is. _There’s no other way_ , she thinks, feeling Edelgard’s overwhelmed stare resting at the back of her neck. _You’re everything I have, everything I know_.

They leave Garreg Mach, the next time they come will be to fight and conquer. She’s signed up for a war against the gods – but when she sees Edelgard blooming with glee, the crook of her smile, she knows this was the next right thing to do.

That night, when Hubert steps out of the improvised Emperor’s chambers, hours away from attacking Garreg Mach Monastery, he knows Byleth won’t leave the room as well.

“The Black Eagle Strike Force is a good nam-“

Edelgard grabs Byleth by the collar of her cape, pulling her down and cutting her mid-phrase. Their lips meet in a sloppy kiss. She tastes like bergamot tea, like flowers in bloom, like blood.

“Edelgard,” Byleth says breathlessly, her words heavy and cracking, “we can’t do this. We – We’re _not_ -“

Edelgard presses her against the closed door, locks of white hair cascading messily down her back, eyes glowing, sharp and _aching_. Byleth stares, _stares_ because it’s physically painful to not lean forward and close the distance again. Edelgard is all around her, the scent of her hair, of her skin; it seeps in through Byleth’s cracks, her head spinning. _This isn’t meant for me_ , she manages to think. Her kisses, her soft skin, her hunger, her heart – none of that is meant for Byleth to have. There’s someone better for her, someone _right_ , and Byleth can’t –

“I apologize, my teacher,” Edelgard breaths hot against her lips, her lilac irises glowing brighter than any single star Byleth has ever seen. Hands buried in her hair, her heart pressed against Byleth’s heart – _Take this. It is yours, all of it. All of me has always been yours_. “I can’t bring myself to care anymore.”

Byleth raises a hand, her thumb caressing the smooth skin on her cheek. She feels herself shivering cold, set aflame.

“But I’m _not_ your soulmate,” Byleth whispers, pleading, _hurting_. Her embers extending past the tips of her fingers, her palm spread against Edelgard’s face.

“That does not matter. It’s just – It’s just _you_ ,” Edelgard mouths, giving in to her touch, lilac softer than a newborn star. Her heart leaps into the void, scoops closer to Byleth’s, shatters every glass wall in between. _It’s you_ , Edelgard thinks to herself. _There’s no one else I’d ever want like I want you._

Byleth gives in and leans forward, brushing their lips together, capturing them with her mouth like they were her last lifeline. She kisses her and she tastes like honey, like promises, like a meteor shower colliding against her lips, she feels stars scattered across the vault of her chest – the blistering certainty that she’s _the one_. She needs to be, she was supposed to be, she _should’ve been_.

Byleth kisses her and she wonders how much time can they play against fate.

* * *

She’s gone too far to stop now.

Garreg Mach, the place she called home for a short time, is crumbling and devastated, walls coming down and stone blocks smashing against the ground. The nearby city is in ruins, too, columns of smoke rising above her head, darkening the dim light of the night sky. Everything is grey, dusty, broken – the ashes have consumed everything, engulfing every living thing. Edelgard walks, _walks_ , unable to stay focused on one single rotten thing. Around her, rest on the floor the corpses of those who have fallen in battle – allies, friends, foes, enemies, equals, innocent and guilty; their blood is spilled across the soil. People she knew, their names, their faces, their memories. Everything rests festering in the ashen and crimson remnants of battle. She keeps moving, advancing in this mist _she_ has created, like she’s walking inside a haunted housed where the only ghost that’s left is _her_.

She keeps going until she can’t anymore, the overwhelming reality of _loss_ swallowing her last drops of strength – despite having won the battle. Edelgard falls to her knees, cracked, and empty, and _devastated_. She wonders if all of this is her fault, or if it’s the universe punishing her for being too arrogant, thinking that she could play against the rules of fate.

The night before, Edelgard hadn’t turned off the light in her improvised room. She remembers coming back there from the won battle to nothing, to hollow, throbbing loneliness and emptiness where Byleth used to live. She remembers being too scared of what inhabits in her dreams, fingers trembling and reaching out for a safety that’s gone and left her behind.

“We will find her,” Dorothea had followed her, concerned about her friend. Her words are soft and cautious. “We just need to enlarge the searching area, and then I’m sure that – ”

“She’s gone,” Edelgard says, blinking against the burning of her eyes, tears pooling on the corners, not ready to let go yet. She watches Dorothea walk to her, but Edelgard’s gaze is focused beyond. Her chest constricts itself, making it hard to breathe. The stance closes in around her, the remaining pieces of ceiling cracking in; she feels her hands wet with blood, ashes cluttering beneath her nails, her friends being ripped open all over again, their flesh cut by the bite of metal; and Byleth, _Byleth_ _is_ –

“Edie, Edie!” Dorothea says, bringing Edelgard back beside her. She changes her tone, her voice soft and soothing. “We’re still not sure she’s gone. For all we know, she could show up any minute now,” Dorothea smiles, not quite managing to hide the sadness there. “The Professor has been through way worse and she’s always returned. Give her time – she’ll come back to us.”

“She won’t,” Edelgard snaps brokenly, biting her bottom lip. Trying to stop the tears from spilling all that’s bottled up inside, trying to distract her mind with the sting of pain, vulnerable. “She is gone, I – I can’t _feel_ her.”

 _She was just here_ , Edelgard thinks. _Here, fighting next to me, eyes glowing with determination, and I could touch her, and see her, and feel her. We were supposed to do this together, win over the Church and bring a better world, a new dawn for everyone. But now, she is – She’s not – How will I keep marching forward if that means leaving her behind? How will I stand, and advance, and fight, and win when I’m this – this empty?_

On Edelgard’s wrist, the drawn pattern of her soulmate’s crest glows bitter under the dim light, jagged scars on her skin blurring the silhouette. _The Crest of Flames_ , she caresses it with her thumb.

She had never shown it to Byleth, never told her the real reasons behind her white hair, behind all her nightmares, and her scars, and her walls. She curses herself now because she should have. She should have done so many things, she realizes now over the edge of her hollowness inside, dark and devastating. If she had told Byleth about her second crest, maybe she’d still be here. They still wouldn’t be soulmates, since their birth crests and marks don’t match, she thinks painfully – but maybe she’d still have her warm hand resting on her chin, thumb caressing the soft skin there; her blue gaze focused only on her, ardent and _inevitable_ , like a falling comet about to consume her. It’s not the first time Edelgard thinks about regrets, but it’s the hardest.

“She used to be here,” Edelgard says, voice soaked in anguish. _In my heart, in my dreams, in every corner of my soul. She used to pour out of me, like a light chasing away every dark thing I owned_. She holds her shirt tightly above her chest, knuckles turning white. “But I _cannot_ find her now.”

“It’s okay,” Dorothea says, falling to the ground and wrapping Edelgard in her embrace, hoping with all of her might for her friend to be wrong. “It’s okay.”

* * *

Edelgard is contemplating the landscape beyond the window of the Goddess’ Tower one evening. She’s resting her chin against her hand, her mind drifting downstream with her thoughts, loose strands of snowy hair curling around her face.

It’s been almost five years since the battle of Garreg Mach. Most of the time Edelgard feels as if all of that happened lifetimes away; but, at night, everything is so real, so vivid, replaying over and over again tirelessly – dreams smeared with dirt and blood.

Five years. Almost five years since she lost Byleth to the darkness. Occasionally she dips into her memories of her, painful but comforting, two sides of the same coin she’s learned to despise. Edelgard thinks of being eighteen and the way her heart fluttered inside her chest, to deny love and then embrace it. She remembers feeling fearless, light-hearted, the future of the world beaming in between her hands; certain, and thrilling, and new. She thinks of Byleth’s laugh, Byleth’s fingers tangled through her hair, Byleth’s smile living in her heart, in her veins, in her dreams; in her ghosts, in her nightmares, in her empty spaces – always at the back of her mind, haunting, _torturing_. She promised herself she wouldn’t lose hope, lose faith in her. But even the strongest hearts need to stop bleeding at some point, give in to reality. She hated it. Hated _yearning_ , hated that Byleth would always be her Achilles heel.

It’s late when she hears the footsteps, someone walking up the old and dusty stone stairs of the tower.

She quickly turns around, words of accusation and displease already sitting on her tongue – what’s the point of fleeing to the Goddess’ Tower if she can’t be left alone for some time without anyone demanding something of her? – when her eyes register who is standing in front of her. Light green hair, transfixing eyes, half-crooked smile, Edelgard feels herself physically freezing, everything she was about to say dying on her lips.

It’s Byleth. _Her Byleth_.

Edelgard is spellbound, like if she was reliving a dream she’s had before. She’s magnetized to her green eyes, staring, _staring_ as if Byleth was a vision, an illusion, like she wasn’t actually there at all – after all, how can Edelgard believe that she is? She’s seen her so many times in her dreams, how to risk reaching out her hand just to find she’s nothing more than another ghost? She doesn’t know what would be more heart-wrenching, more bittersweet: stepping forward and watching her vanish, or standing still and finding her finally closer.

“Edelgard?” Byleth says, taking a tentative step forward to the Emperor. That voice, _her voice_.

Edelgard feels her heart throbbing inside her ribcage, pounding wildly, ferocious. The last string inside of her snaps, and she comes undone, her heart decluttering, wrapping Byleth tightly in her arms – wanting her close, _needing_ her close. Broken, and empty, and rough, but _found_. _Finally found_.

“My teacher,” Edelgard finally breaths. It’s been five years, she can’t believe she’s been so strong for that long. “What have you been doing all this time? Where have you been!?”

 _Sleeping_ , Byleth says. Edelgard snaps her eyelids closed, making a sound similar to a laugh, muted. _Joking? At a time like this?_

“Do you have any idea how guilty I felt?” Edelgard says, a raw voice scrapping her throat. Byleth’s embrace is warm and Edelgard’s eyes grow watery because she’s so close, and she’s _real_. “How broken my heart was!?”

 _I’m here_ , Byleth says, and Edelgard melts into her arms, every single buried feeling bursting out of her chest at once. Suddenly she’s not Edelgard, Emperor of the Adrestian Empire leading an army to remove the children of the Goddess from this land. She’s simply _El_ , the woman Byleth chose all those years ago despite what fate had to say, finally back with her, and she’s _defrosting_ in her hands – it’s Byleth, who would look at her, hold her, kiss her, soothe her like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole universe, _pretending_ she was meant for her even if both of them knew she wasn’t.

Byleth. _Her Byleth_.

 _And she is finally home_.

* * *

The war advances quickly, but they have so many years to make up for.

When the sun hides behind the mountains and the stars light up the night, Byleth doesn’t come back to her room, doesn’t turn out the lights. She and Edelgard lay wide awake, the Emperor’s bed lazily made, all their secrets and longings scattered through the bed sheets, overwhelmed by all the possibilities, all the good things they can do with this second chance of fate, their thrill and uncertainty.

Edelgard doesn’t tell Byleth about her second crest until she uncovers herself vulnerable, lays bare her skin for Byleth to see her, to _really_ see her and her demons, her past and all her jagged scars. _The Crest of Flames isn’t Edelgard’s birth crest, but she still bears it_. There’s a possibility, a glimpse of a brighter future, there’s hope. Byleth links their hands together, fingers intertwining like threads of fate. Door closed behind them and clothes forgotten on the floor, they feel the rest of the universe slowly disappearing as they dive deep into each other’s eyes, their mouths a husky breath away –

Edelgard kisses her, tongue slipping over Byleth’s bottom lip, and she feels her frame shivering beneath her. She hunches over her, locks of white hair tickling Byleth’s cheeks, and she kisses her again hotly, insatiably, craving, _needing_. Edelgard sucks fiercely on the skin of her neck, teeth gently biting her pulse point. Byleth dips her fingers in Edelgard’s back under her shoulder blades, gasping. Her flattened tongue explores Byleth’s neck, wet and hungry, nibbling lower down to her collarbone, painfully slow. Cold hands slip beneath her shirt, Edelgard’s breaths are hot against her lips and she’s finding all of Byleth’s sensitive spots. Byleth catches her lips again and she feels her self-restraint crumbling, fingers shaking. Edelgard wants her to _melt_ for her. She wants to impregnate Byleth with her scent, mark her skin, her heart, her soul, _all of her_. She wants the universe to see this love, to accept that if Byleth isn’t for her, then she wouldn’t want anybody else. She wants everyone to know Byleth is hers, hers, _hers_.

That’s when her vision stars to get blurry. Edelgard doesn’t notice that she’s crying until she’s being gently pulled away. Byleth is cupping her face, her expression drenched in worry.

“I do not care that our birth crests don’t match,” Edelgard chokes out, lips red and heart upon her sleeve as if saying _‘kiss me, take me, hold me until this doesn’t hurt anymore’_. “If I’m not meant to be yours, then – then…”

“Edelgard, I love you,” Byleth whispers, pressing their foreheads together, a tender lopsided smile drawing on her lips, heart overfilled with feelings she can’t convey – It’s been five years. She can’t believe she’s still helplessly in love. “I’m not going anywhere. This,” she gestures, scarred skin pressed against her skin, limbs tangled together in bed, Edelgard’s beating heart resting upon her naked chest, “is where I belong.”

“I love you too,” Edelgard says and she’s crying. She leans in, clumsily bumping their noses together, scooping closer. Byleth kisses her heartache away, she’s leaving kisses on her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, her jaw – her lips taste like salt, like trust, like _home_. “I always have. I love you, _I love you_.”

“I’m never leaving your side again,” Byleth says, green irises softer under the dim light. Reassuring, healing, _true_.

“Prove it,” Edelgard says, drawing so close she feels Byleth’s pulse rushing again beneath her skin, moonlight reflecting on the glimpse of her lilac eyes. Byleth catches Edelgard’s lips again, softer this time, melting together to the simple brush of their tender skin. One hand buried in white hair, the other with her fingers skimming lightly the inside of Edelgard’s thighs, the scars that meet her there. Byleth deepens the kiss, holding her world in her hands, unraveling the love that comes in waves one by one; the growing, _burning_ need on their lower stomach, stars exploding between their colliding tongues.

Edelgard gasps, biting her rosy bottom lip, as Byleth deeps further over their slipping skin, until every star in the sky is a hazy glow in the night sky – too blissfully intoxicated to remember what used to hurt so much.

* * *

It’s the last chapter of their story, the last step before conquering all their dreams or to die trying.

They’re facing the Immaculate One. The dragon stands tall before them, teeth dripping with blood, eyes of burning emerald, enraged. Edelgard and Byleth are the last ones standing there, all their friends and allies have either fainted, fallen or are holding off the rest of the Church’s army. This is the decisive moment, the turning page, and they have no one else to rely on but each other – having gotten this far, they feel unbeatable.

Byleth glances sideways at Edelgard. She’s panting for air, sharp gaze focused on the dragon’s every move, her hand distractedly wiping sweat and blood from her forehead, loose strands of dirty white hair framing her face and sticking to her temples. Despite the blood, and the sweat, and the dirt, and the tiredness, Byleth will always find her _stunning_. It strikes her sometimes, just how beautiful she’s grown to be.

The sword of the creator feels heavy in Byleth’s grasp, her muscles too exhausted to keep fighting. But the deep wounds in the dragon’s skin prove how badly they’ve hurt Rhea, thick green blood pouring out of her cuts and bruises. They’re close to claiming victory, but Rhea hasn’t fallen yet.

“You two are interfering with everything I’ve ever worked for, everything _my_ _mother_ built for you, ungrateful humans!” The dragon shrieks, a distorted husky voice coming out of her throat. She turns to Byleth, irises blazing. “It was a mistake allowing you to lead her House. I could not possibly anticipate that you would be soulmates – But it matters not, for I will make you both burn in the eternal flames for this humiliation! I shall rip your throats open with my bare claws if I must!”

Edelgard frowns like she’s grown tired of listening to Rhea, as if believing every word that leaves her mouth to be a lie. She steadies Aymr’s handle in her grasp, about to set off running and display the killing blow – _She cannot fool us with half-assed truths. She may have knowledge of our vulnerable spot, but I will not grant her the chance to run from death this time._

But Byleth raises her arm in front of Edelgard right when she’s about to set off, stopping her. Edelgard blinks, staring at Byleth and feeling the air turning heavier around them – _What is she doing? Does she… really believe what Rhea is saying?_

“Wait,” Byleth says, eyes narrowed, staring at Edelgard and completely ignoring Lady Rhea’s threats. They can’t dispose of her without hearing the truth first. _I’m tired of running,_ Byleth thinks melancholically, _we’ve spent too long hiding a love that should be celebrated, playing against the odds_. _I want to know the truth. I need to know if you’re mine to love._ Byleth’s grip on her sword loosens as she turns to the dragon. “We’re not – Our birth crests don’t match.”

“You humans are unbelievably idiotic,” the dragon scoffs, sounding exasperated. Edelgard feels the nerves start to wake in her, heart hammering against her chest like it’s angry at itself for even contemplating the possibility. She lost all hope about soulmates ages ago, even if the word still stings in her mind like a bruise. And she would be shaking wildly, _dying_ to finally rip the truth out of Rhea, if the pressure of the entire world’s future wasn’t resting on her hands – _Byleth is not your soulmate. She can’t be. It would break you to think that she is and then find out she belongs with someone else. Byleth’s care for you is temporary. Byleth’s love doesn’t belong to you. Byleth is_ – “Soulmates are not defined by birth crests, but by the strongest crest one bears, however that came to be.”

_Byleth’s only crest, the Crest of Flames._

There’s a pause.

_Edelgard’s birth crest, the Crest of Seiros._

A silence that engulfs every little sound.

_Edelgard’s strongest crest, induced by the experiments, the Crest of Flames._

“Does that mean…” Edelgard says with a quivering voice, shattering the noiseless space that separates them, lips trembling. The crests and soulmate marks match. They _match_. _They_ _match_. Byleth is staring at her, frozen, wide eyes glued to her skin, like she can’t even remember how to breathe, how to function.

“We are –“ Byleth starts, feeling even weightless than those owl feathers she used to gift to Edelgard as an excuse for seeing her smile.

Another pause. An earth-shaking roar.

“Enough of that!” The Immaculate One interrupts her, irises blazing, dragon claws sinking on the pavement below. Edelgard reaffirms her grip of Aymr, and that’s how Byleth knows play-time is over. “I will splatter your blood across this holy soil as a divine punishment. Your pitiful lives end _now_!”

It happens all too quickly. The dragon is lunging at them, eyes glimmering at the sight of her preys. She growls, a guttural sound that comes from the darkest corner of her soul, drenched in a raw and deadly rage. At the same time, Byleth and Edelgard strike forward, the sword of the creator and the Aymr axe combining their power to land one final blow to the dragon’s head with all of their might. Gritted teeth, drops of sweat, muscles aching – the world cracks wide-open, rewrites itself brand new.

The Immaculate One falls, defeated.

“Is it…” Edelgard whispers. The world stops orbiting and Edelgard’s breath is a bit less steady, a sandstorm rising at the back of her throat. “Is it over?”

Before she has any second to let reality sink in – _they have defeated Rhea, they’ve won, the war is finally over and they are unbelievably okay. It’s been five long years. She can’t believe she still has time to live, time to grow, time to love_ – Edelgard sees Byleth’s eyes fluttering, and suddenly she’s on the floor.

“No. No, _no!_ ”

Edelgard falls to the ground, raising the dust around them, cradles Byleth in her arms. She can feel her own heart shattering into a million pieces, collapsing like a dying star and leaving her world in the deepest of darkness. Her whole body is shuddering, her hands shaking so violently she can’t hold Byleth’s head properly, cheeks splattered with blood. Like this, with her eyes closed and her tangled hair resting on Edelgard’s embrace, she almost seems like she’s sleeping. _She might be_ , Edelgard desperately thinks. _Just like after that fight against Solon. She might be just resting. Please, be resting, my teacher_ – Edelgard places her ear upon Byleth’s heart.

“No. No, _please_ – “

There’s no heartbeat.

_There’s no heartbeat._

Edelgard crouches over her, holding her still body so tight she might be hurting her, but she can’t bring herself to care. Her mind is racing, searching for something, _anything_ she can do to get her back. But her heart isn’t responding, and she doesn’t know nearly enough healing magic to cast a miracle upon her. There’s not enough time. She needs to do something now, or else she will lose her forever. _Now that I had you back beside me_ , Edelgard thinks, tears pooling on the corners of her eyes and burning, aching to let go. _We’ve come this far because we were together_. _We’ve denied, and ignored, and embraced, and given in to our love. And now that we are certain we were right all along, now that I know you were my soulmate, you’re – you’re –_

“My teacher, open your eyes, please,” she pleads. Byleth’s heart isn’t beating, there’s a blackness where her life should have been. Her grip on her sword completely loosens and the sword of the creator falls to the ground, a metallic, lonely sound echoing throughout the grounds. “Byleth, please. I can’t – _I can’t_ _lose you again_.”

She feels her soul completely cracking, decluttering under the heaviness of _grief_ – and the acceptance that comes with it.

She risked too much, now she sees it. She headed for a war that was necessary, but it was unrealistic of her to think that she would rise victorious, unharmed in any way. She won the crown, won the hearts of the people, won the trust of her allies and ultimately won the right to choose the future to come. Yet this does not feel like a victory at all, her soul too crushed for this to be any cause of celebration. Her only cause, her only purpose, her only future, lays now in the soft embrace of her arms – Byleth was her guiding star, the only one who knew her heart and all its chambers and secrets, the way it bruises and bleeds.

“My teacher,” Edelgard holds her impossibly closer, as if Byleth was her last lifeline, a thread to the future she’s not ready to let go of yet. She’s everything she has. _Her soulmate_. Edelgard swallows over the lump in her throat, trying to keep the aching at bay and failing miserably, warm tears streaming down her dirty cheeks. Byleth would always be her skyfall, blissfully close to the skies yet painfully out of reach. “Please _. I love you._ ”

One second passes, then it’s two. The world seems as it has stopped spinning.

Then she hears it. The faintest of sounds. The soft, rhythmic pounding.

 _Wait_ , Edelgard snaps her eyes open. _Could it truly be?_

Edelgard quickly places her ear upon Byleth’s chest and she hears it. She hears it loud, and clear, and unmistakable: Byleth’s heart beating strong, full of life, like shaken by an earthquake. Edelgard’s relief paints a fond smile on her face and the tears don’t stop coming because she’s well, an she’s safe, and she’s _alive_.

Byleth opens her eyes, her blue irises softer than the most precious dandelion on all of Fodland. Edelgard smiles, caressing the soft skin under her eye.

“There you are,” she says, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together, breathing in Byleth’s scent, reassuring to her still trembling heart. “You had me really scared, my teacher. I beg of you, do _not_ do that again.”

“So it was you,” Byleth says weakly, raising her hand to meet Edelgard’s face, still buried in tears. _It has always been you_. “When I first saw you, I – It had to be _you_.”

There’s certainty to her words, now they know. They had spent so much time hiding, denying, aching, whispering their love in the dark, under the sheets. Now nothing has changed between them, yet everything feels different, brand new. They have that certainty now, the truth that fate always wanted them together, linked and tangled their lives so they would always find each other. It’s been five years. They can’t believe they still have their whole lives ahead.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Edelgard says, her shaken breath inches apart of Byleth’s lips. _When you first held me, I felt all my demons fade away, all my weaknesses vanishing in the tenderness of your embrace_. Edelgard leans in, their lips barely brushing. “You were – _everything_.”

“I love you,” Byleth says. _When you first kissed me, it felt like returning, like belonging, like coming home._

Edelgard captures Byleth’s lips finally, _finally_ , kissing her.

This doesn’t feel like any kiss they’ve shared before. There’s a serenity there, there’s peace, because they finally _know_ what their hearts were so sure of all the way here. All the time spent, all their hidden kisses, all the looks, and the letters, and the gifts, and the years of yearning, they all make sense now. They were _made_ for each other, bound to find this love over and over again, life after life – They kiss, and it tastes like blood, and tears, and hopes, and new beginnings.

Holding each other so dearly, they see the first rays of the sun peeking through the mountains. They smile and watch it rise above their heads, bathing the remnants of the war with its healing light.

The new dawn, at last. One they would receive together.


End file.
